


Gold And Silver Shine

by Talullah



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2196768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold And Silver Shine

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to jaiden_s for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> OFC name from Meduseld. Arphendess – Noble (young) woman.
> 
> fanfic100 prompt 053: earth.
> 
> ficalbum prompt 6: 'Shiny Happy People' by R.E.M.
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Nargothrond, First Age 457**

‘Elves living in caves!’ that was the first thing everybody ever said when Nargothrond was mentioned abroad. Those who lived in it had other opinions, though. Gwindor, son of Guilin, for one, very much appreciated the sheltering beauty of its delicately carved walls. He had learned to love the way light diffused into the very heart of Nargothrond through the multiple slits spread out over the ceilings and walls. Finrod was a visionary; it had to be said. From his dreams and from his hands, a cunning, elegant dwelling had risen. From his heated words, a strong, tightly knit community had emerged. Gwindor loved his home, his people and his king. Still, he could see how the Elves who had never experienced living in a cave might feel trapped at first. He made a point of showing newcomers all the beauty that there was to be seen in Nargothrond, so that they could grow to love it as much as he did. Or at least that is what he told himself when again he found himself outside the rooms of Finrod’s grandniece.

As on other afternoons, Finduilas opened the door cautiously, as if she expected an Orc army on the other side. She smiled in greeting. Gwindor beamed back, happily noticing that at each day her smile grew wider, and that in this particular afternoon, it had almost reached her eyes.

“Please do come in,” she said, motioning for him to pass into the living room she shared with her father.

Gwindor bowed slightly and entered. Orodreth was not in the room, which made Gwindor giddy – politeness demanded that he invite the older elf to join him and Finduilas, and today there would be no such obligation. Not that Gwindor did not like Orodreth’s company, but he would rather be alone with Finduilas.

“You look like you are ready to ride,” she observed as he sat.

“I am. I thought that you would enjoy some fresh air and sunlight for a change so I made arrangements for us to have a little ride outside in the Taur-en- faroth.”

“My…” Finduilas said taking her hand to her chest.

Gwindor rose and was instantly by her side. “You do not like horseback riding? I should have asked first but I wanted to surprise you. We don’t have to go, of course.” He knew he was talking too much and too fast so he quieted himself.

“No, no, I enjoy riding. It was one of the few pleasures we had in Tol-Sirion.” There it was again, the sadness Gwindor fought so hard time and again.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to bring back painful memories.”

“You did not,” again she smiled sadly. “It's just that I still miss home.”

Gwindor nodded and returned to his seat.

“I will try to find something more appropriate for riding,” she said, leaving for her private rooms.

To Gwindor's surprise, it took Finduilas less than five minutes to return clad in a green riding gown that had seen better days. They descended through the city until they were at one of the hidden gates, where a stable hand waited them with their mounts.

“Taur-en- faroth has been quite safe for a few hundred years now,” he said reassuringly as they cantered off.

They rode for a long time in a light trot, enjoying the open air and the vibrant colours of Autumn. Often they were side by side, but when the forest trails narrowed, Gwindor let Finduilas ride ahead, to enjoy the pleasure of watching her graceful back and her glorious hair in free movement. After a while they slowed to a mild pace. Finduilas took a turn to the left, leading them into a glade. She looked back at him.

“Do you suppose we could dismount for a few moments?”

Before she had finished the question, Gwindor was already by her side, helping her off of the horse. They let the animals roam free, knowing that they would not run far. Finduilas followed a faint murmur, to find a tiny stream.

“Lovely,” she said, kneeling to dip her fingers into the cool water.

Gwindor knelt by her side on the fallen leaves. “Not nearly as lovely as you are.”

She looked at him, startled.

“I'm sorry,” he said, immediately fearing that his boldness would scare her off.

“Don't be,” she said turning her face from him. She took her cold, wet fingers to her burning cheeks. “No one has courted me before.”

Gwindor rose his eyebrow but she continued. “I know, it's hard to believe, given my age and station. The daughters of lords never lack attention. But in Tol-Sirion we were so very few and no one ever visited...”

She faced him, slowly rising. He followed her motion.

“Finduilas...” Gwindor was at loss for words. He wobbled forward, but held back at the last moment.

She gazed at her hands. “I am sorry that I am so clumsy in these matters. My mother said that it would all be as natural and easy as the cherry trees blooming in spring, but I never know what to do or say when I am with you.”

Gwindor closed the distance between them, embracing her, only to quickly step back. “I feel the same. I fear that you think I am a pathetic fool, showing you carved stone and empty forests as if they mean anything. I want to hold your hand but I am not sure if I am allowed. I want to kiss you but I am afraid you will despise me...”

She smiled, still looking down and placed her hand in his. “You are allowed. Ever since we have arrived in Nargothrond, your afternoon visits are the high point in my days.”

She quickly removed her hands and covered her face with them. “Sweet Eru. My friend Arphendess would say that I am crazy. One should never say these things until one has a ring in her hand, she used to say.”

Gwindor collected her hands and brought them to his lips. “I would give you one... I would give you anything.”

“So you don't find me improper...?” Finduilas looked up to Gwindor's eyes in painful expectation.

“Improper? You speak of yourself as if you were an object,” Gwindor replied, surprised. “I find you perfect.” Again he kissed her hands, turning the gesture into a tender embrace. He leaned his forehead on hers, gazing at her lips, and in the same fluid movement he kissed her.

“Perfect,” he said, parting slightly.

She put her arms around his neck, burying her face on his shoulder. “I feel the same,” she whispered into the cloth, but her heard her and held her tighter.

“Come,” he said when they finally parted. He took her hand and lead her to a sunny patch. He spread out his cape in the ground and they sat very close to one another.

“This would be lovely for a picnic,” she said wistfully.

“We can return here whenever you like, as long as the reports still deem it safe.”

Finduilas looked at him, sadness creeping into her smile again. “That would be lovely.”

Gwindor held her chin up. “You are sad...” he said. He dared not breaking the fragile understanding between them with brusque questions.

She smiled again. “I was just thinking... My mother would have loved this place. She loved trees. And my little brother would take delight in playing in the water, even as cold as it is. I have never seen an elfling who so loves water. I suppose he must be happy with Círdan...”

Gwindor put his arm around her shoulder. “Do you prefer that he was here?”

“Yes. Nargothrond seems so safe. Inexpugnable, even.”

Gwindor nodded. “It is. But he is also safe in the Havens.” He kissed her cheek and she turned, offering her lips.

Their kiss was long and sweet, slowly growing bolder. Gwindor had to stop himself. “I would marry you tomorrow, if you would allow me,” he said, slightly panting.

Finduilas giggled. It was the first time Gwindor heard her making a sound so joyous. A star of pride and love exploded in his chest and laughing, he kissed her again, laying her on the cape. She did not hold back, letting the kiss take its course until both their hearts raced like maddened horses.

“You look even lovelier when you blush,” he said as he parted slightly for air.

She giggled and hid her face in his shoulder. He wished he could make the moment last forever, but the sun was starting to sink low in the sky. He aspired the cold air, savouring the earthy scent of the forest mixed with the flowers of Finduilas' hair.

“We should go before night falls,” he said tenderly.

She held him tighter for a second before they parted. Gwindor rose and held out his hand for her. Then he picked his cape and shook it clean before he put it around his shoulders.

They called the horses who nipped on some remaining herbs nearby. He helped her climbing onto her horse, and she beamed down in thanks. Again, Gwindor felt his heart swelling in his chest. Under that light, Finduilas' smile was even more dazzling than her beautiful hair, descending her back in rich waves of silk.

“Faelivrin,” he whispered. Her smile grew. He kissed her hand and mounted his horse.

“I want to speak with your father tonight,” he said as she rode up to his side. “Is that too soon for you?”

She shook her head, beaming. They spurred their horses and galloped home.

 

_Finis  
November 2006_


End file.
